Shades of Grey
by Solarom
Summary: KotOR I "walkthrough" and something more. Main character is female. Contains MAJOR SPOILERS. Rated M for violence and swearing - some Mandalorians have no manners.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note.**

This is intended as a KotOR I "walkthrough" fanfic, but my main focus here is Revan. We don't have a lot of solid info on her (yes, _her_), so expect a lot of speculation on my part. However, Revan's gender aside, I try to follow canon as much as possible. This includes the info provided in the "Knights of the Old Republic" graphic novel, Campaign Guide etc., so expect characters like Lucien Draay, Mandalore the Ultimate, Arren Kae to get at least a cameo. Also, as some of us know from the Issue #42 of KotOR comic series, "Revan" is (as expected) a moniker, not a given name – the fact I also incorporated into the fic, so don't let it confuse you.

On a side note, I don't like extremes. Too light-sided/dark-sided characters – both bore the hell out of me. As a result, Revan sometimes may appear OOC to some of you, especially in flashbacks. So it's a… grey-sided Revan, I guess. Also, expect some minor changes to the main game plot and side-quests. KotOR is a video game, characters there sometimes behave like… well, characters instead of real people. Ultimately, I'm gonna do my best to make things look realistic, but still keep the mood epic and heroic. It's Star Wars after all.

Finally, not only this is my first fic, but English is not even my native language. I do have a beta now, but still if you spot any errors, let me know.

Of course, polite critique and reviews are very welcome. I hope you'll enjoy reading this.

**Disclaimer: I own the story, some names and personalities. The rest (Knights of the Old Republic video game, its world, characters etc.) is owned by Lucas Arts and Bioware. I make no money of this story. I'm just in this for the kicks.**


	2. Prologue

**Prologue. Innocence.**

She wasn't sure what made her distinguish this particular student from the rest. They were all talented, otherwise they wouldn't be here. This one had some skill with a lightsaber, but nothing too exceptional, not yet at least. Perhaps, it was the sharp, vigilant mind that made her stand out. This girl evaluated, questioned and scrutinized everything the Masters taught her. It was hard to tell at first, was it a genuine interest and passion to comprehend the nature of things, or was she just rebellious? Master Arren Kae was willing to bet it wasn't the latter. The young Jedi apprentice was persistent, yet careful and almost exquisitely polite. She never let the argument get out of hand, but always made sure her point was heard and at least taken into consideration. Arren couldn't help but smile at the memory of how the girl stood up to this old fool Vrook. She was only sixteen then.

"To know the Jedi Code is not enough. To be one of our Order, to bring its legacy into the future, and to resist the ever-strong lure of the Dark Side, you must understand it, absorb it and make it your own," the aging Master lectured in his usual, monotonic voice. "Let us reside it together and try to look through simple words, to see its true meaning." He made a significance pause. "There is no emotion..."

"There is peace," a chorus of voices sounded as all the students quoted in union.

"But what does this line mean? Is anyone ready to…" His eyes searched the room until he spotted a raised hand. Master Vrook sighed deeply. "…Yes, apprentice Revan?"

"I believe, that this line of the Jedi code instructs, that in order to convey one's duty of upholding peace and stability in the galaxy, one must do so with one's mind clear of any motives based on emotions such as anger, fear or agitation," she said in an even, so un-child-like voice. "It also teaches that other feelings, like joy, friendship and love, as positive as they might be, can hold even more danger to one's soul, for they often open a channel for other, darker impulses."

There was a moment's pause, while other students reflected on that. Even Master Vrook couldn't conceal a hint of surprise in his voice. "Indeed, there is… some degree of truth in your words, young one," he said, puzzled with how reasonable, how _orthodox_ Revan sounded this time. _"Maybe, she's not such a hopeless case after all."_

"I only said what I believe the code implies, Master. I never said I agree with all of it," she continued, unbiased.

"_Oh, here it comes again,_" Vrook thought with more irritation than he intended to show. "And what exactly do you find so questionable _now_, apprentice?"

"I mean no disrespect, Master," she appeased. "I recognize wisdom of this statement. My only intention was to point out the overall generalization of it. Isn't it true that sometimes it is as dangerous to oversimplify or dismiss certain concepts as succumbing into them might be? How can one expect to resist the lure of something one has never experienced and thus had no chance to understand?" Revan asked with genuine, or expertly faked, interest in her eyes. "Besides, doesn't the ability to feel something beyond simple biological urges considered the very thing that separates humans, and other sentient species, from animals?"

Her questions echoed in the silent chamber, and into the thoughts of everyone present. There was a soft murmur of whispers. _"This makes sense,"_ other students said. _"Wonder how he's getting out of this one." _

Discontent was written across Master Vrooks's face, though he was by no means taken aback by Revan's challenge. "The questions you pose might seem clever and sophisticated to you, young one, or to your peers, but, surprising as it may sound, I find myself unimpressed," he said in a stern voice. "Always eager to speculate, Revan. Not good, not good at all."

As he continued to press on, he started pacing across the auditorium, looking his students in the eyes, searching their faces, pounding his own arguments into their ears like hails into wood. "This tenet of Jedi philosophy might prove to be hard to comprehend. It does not say that emotions are explicitly forbidden for us. After all, like your fellow apprentice here suggested, emotions are a vitally important part of human nature." He eyed Revan intently. "Instead of ignoring emotions entirely, you must learn to process them. Instead of denying them, you have to set them aside." Master Vrook stopped at the center of the room. "Remember, analyze your feelings, understand them, deal with them, but _do not_ act on them. Your sense of duty and good judgment _must always prevail_, lest your rash and instinctive actions lead you to the path of darkness."

Master Vrook felt quite pleased with his speech. Revan's expression, as it was the usual case with her, was carefully neutral and held a hint of polite interest, which apparently was her own version of a "blank" face. Other students though seemed thoughtful. They were talking softly to each other, considering Master's words. One of them was sitting right behind Revan. This Alek, cursed with a last name no-one-can-spell.

He bent forward slightly and whispered right into her ear, sending shivers across her neck. "Psst." That appeared to startle her. She jumped and turned her head, only to see his wicked grin. "Looks like we've gotten ourselves into a little zombie academy. Do _this_, don't do _that_, may the Force be with you. _Next!_ " His version of Master Vrook was both amusing and incredibly accurate. "And when you finally get out, you're like a droid with a lightsaber," he finished with a laugh.

For a moment Revan just looked at him with a confused expression, but then her lips twitched into a small smile. "Good point… Alek, right? The one with a weird last name?"

"The one and only. I'm from Quelii, see? We don't have surnames there, just names of our home village, and I happened to live in one called named Squinquargesimus." He chuckled.

"I'll try to remember that," Revan said. "Thanks for the "droid" hint, by the way. It gave me perspective."

"On what?" Alek asked, but she already turned back to Master Vrook with a raised hand.

"Can I ask you one more question, Master?" Revan innocently inquired. "I would be honored to hear you opinion on a certain hypothetical situation."

"Certainly." Vrook nodded and even smiled to her, if somewhat dryly.

"Thank you. I shall posit a scenario for you to consider. Let us assume that you find yourself on the bank of a river," she began. "You notice two people drowning, a child that you have never seen before, and an adult whom you know to be, say, a respectable and very talented doctor. You don't have time to rescue them both. Given the choice, who would you pick?"

"Capable medics are greatly valued, and the loss of one would be unfortunate, but I would of course save the child," he said seriously. "The life of someone so young and innocent is sacred, as I hope you all understand. It is the responsibility of every Jedi knight to make sure the little ones are cherished and protected. "

Master Vrook was perfectly satisfied with his answer, until he read the look on the girl's face. He has seen it before and knew what it meant. She's caught a scent. "I see," Revan drawled. "Indeed, Master, I understand and admire your choice and I'm grateful for your reply. However I couldn't help but notice it's inconsistence with what you've said before."

Vrook quirked his eyebrow. "Is that a fact? I'm afraid I see none of that. Make your point, Revan," he said almost angrily.

"My point, Master Vrook, is as follows. You would prefer to rescue the child." Vrook nodded curtly and she continued. "You have also said, that we should never act on our feelings, that our _sense of duty and good judgment must always prevail._ With all due respect, Master, in the hypothesis presented, a display of good judgment would be to save the doctor." Master Vrook opened his mouth to object, but apparently the young apprentice was far from finished. Revan continued unabashedly, with the same conviction. "You would abandon a valuable specialist, a great asset to any community, one that could save dozens, maybe hundreds of lives, for someone of unknown origins, personality and potential. You would choose a seed over a full-grown tree, a tabula rasa over a tome of great wisdom. A raw crystal over a finely crafted lightsaber. This child could grow to become anything – a mechanic, a soldier – or a thief, a murdered, even Sith. Yet you gave your answer without a moment's hesitation."

The room fell silent. Everyone was waiting, shifting in their seats uncomfortably, anxious to see the outcome of this "battle". All the eyes were turning from their fellow apprentice to Master Vrook and back. Except for Alek. He was looking only at Revan.

"You're walking on very thin ice here, apprentice." Vrook was frowning, his voice hard, almost intimidating.

Much to everyone's surprise, Revan smiled at him as she spoke, but her eyes were sad. "Forgive me. I never meant to imply anything demeaning. Quite the contrary, actually, what I said was intended as a compliment. By choosing the child's life over that of an adult, you also chose feelings over reason. You chose compassion and love." She lowered her head and finished almost in a whisper. "It was very hobble, very humane of you. A choice like this deserves every kind of respect."

The rest of the lecture was a chaos, by Master Vrook's standards at least. The class was in commotion, discussing his argument with Revan. He was desperately trying to continue his lecture on the Code but knew it was all in vain now. The stubborn girl was triumphant, again, and Master Vrook was torn between vexation, something bordering respect, but mostly it was concern that he felt. Revan was too smart for her own good.

Other students were all over her now, some scolding, most – praising, and she just sat there with that small smile of hers, reluctantly accepting both compliments and criticism, like she didn't even care if she won or not. _"In a way it would have been better had she been arrogant, marveling at her success,"_ Vrook thought. _"Arrogance I know, and can deal with. What she's after – I have no idea whatsoever."_ It bothered him, that her motives were so obscured. It left him, as her mentor, very little room for maneuver. How could he possibly teach the girl, when between the two of them he was the one confused?

Master Vrook found himself looking forward for the Trial of Lightsaber that was set in eight months, when advanced students will construct their weapons, and some of the more fortunate ones shall be chosen to continue their education directly under one of the Masters. Vrook was positive that a prodigy apprentice like Revan will receive a lot of attention there. Master Zhar Lestin himself, who's never even met the girl, was coming all the way from Coruscant to take a closer look at her.

Vrook saw this as a mixed blessing. On one hand he felt almost relieved that in less than a year Revan will probably be gone from Dantooine, out of his sight and his carefully planned lectures that she has ruined so many times. On the other hand, thought… What kind of a teacher he was to just toss her away like this? Her presence, her subtle influence over her peers was proving to be too much even for the experienced and respectable Master. He recognized the danger in her thirst for knowledge and almost indomitable determination to get answers, but, as Vrook bitterly admitted, he was just too old and too tired to struggle with her anymore. _"Let some other, younger Master take her. With time, Lestin might even put some sense into her head. He has patience and flexibility for that kind of thing."_

A little relieved at the thought, Master Vrook dismissed the class. Revan expected a detention for her behavior, but apparently Master decided to let her loose this time. _"Poor old man, he looks exhausted,"_ she thought with sympathy. She felt almost guilty for wearing him out so much, but that was just her way. With a sigh, she gathered her notes and headed for the door, only to be intercepted by a handsome guy with a flashing smile and an awfully long last name.

"Nice job there," he drawled, catching up with her. Alek had never dared to speak to Revan before, not directly anyway. She was a lonely type. It's not like she didn't talk to anyone or dramatically shunned all company. She just kept to herself and apparently liked it that way. It didn't stop her from being quite popular amongst other students though, including Alek. He tried not to step on her toes and respect her privacy, but he couldn't keep from watching her from a distance. The girl intrigued him almost to the point of fascination, and tonight it just got the better of him.

Ironically, Revan was more than a little puzzled herself. She noticed Alek before, the way he looked at her, how focused and careful he was around her, how his eyes brightened with anticipation when she started one of those arguments with Master Vrook… _"His salty jokes that drive all the Masters insane, the way he smiles when we look at each other, his warm brown eyes, so open and inviting… How come I remember all this?"_ Revan wondered, as she and Alek walked into the empty atrium side by side. _"When did it happen that I've became so aware of him?"_

She snapped out of her thoughts with his hand waving in front of her face. "Hey, Rev, you there?" he said with amusement. "How can you be so smart and so absentminded at the same time, I have no idea."

"Rev?" she repeated, ignoring his last comment.

"Yeah. You don't like?"

"No, no…" she stammered, studying the floor like there was something incredibly interesting there. "Rev is fine."

The way she sounded made Alek stop abruptly and take her small hand in his, giving in the magic of this moment. It seemed impossible, but he could swear Revan looked almost insecure like this. _"Is it possible that this amazing girl feels shy? With me?" _She didn't take her hand away, like he expected. "Why won't you look at me?" He asked softly, dumbfounded by her reaction. "Am I overstepping my bounds?" he added after a few seconds of silence. "Just say the word and I'll back off."

"Why does it feel like this?" She suddenly raised her head, meeting his gaze. "Like you know me, and I – you."

"Don't know, Rev. But I like it."

And just like this, with this first spark of affection began a relationship that would eventually change the face of the galaxy. They couldn't know that at the time. Two brilliant, but lonely people, barely adults – they were just happy to find each other. The encounter itself, however, hasn't gone completely unnoticed. Master Arren Kae knew the mesmerized look on the boy's face all too well. _"Poor kid,"_ she thought, as she watched them. _"He never knew what hit him. Now he's stuck with her for life. She might as well put a collar around his neck."_

Of course, it was never intentional. Arren was positive that all the wonder, all the quiet joy on the girl's face were genuine, that she was as surprised at their sudden discovery as Alek seemed to be. It made the tired, cynical Master smile tenderly. She would make sure that fool Zhar doesn't get them. Not until they're old enough to think with their own heads at least. Besides, even he and Vrook were not short-sighted enough to overlook the "inappropriate" connection between Revan and Alek forever, and those two would do everything in their power to separate the young couple. Arren could never do that, Jedi and the Order's rules be damned.

As if hearing her thoughts, Revan looked the Master right in the eyes, immediately realizing two things. One, there were just the three of them in the room – Kae, Alek and herself. Two, the boy was still holding her hand. If it was Master Vrook watching, he would have already been lecturing them on the dangers of intimacy, making sure it never went any further.

"Alek," Revan said, alarmed. Now both were looking at Master Kae standing on the other side of the atrium, waiting for her reaction. _"No point in tormenting the sensitive youth,"_ Arren thought and gave the pair a nearly invisible nod. _"Everything's going to be fine,"_ it promised. _"Your secret is safe with me." _Alek's smile returned and widened, while Revan's face showed gratitude with a fine hint of doubt. She bowed to Master Kae still keeping an eye contact, like they bow to a duel opponent, respectfully, but with reasonable caution.

Arren watched them as they disappeared around the corner. _"Life will break them apart,"_ she thought sadly, hearing Revan laugh at some obscene joke Alek has just made. Master Kae has never heard her laugh like this before. So artless, so innocent. _"Hold on to it, girl. It won't last."_


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. Crush.**

Visions were burning through Nicola's head like a corrupted slideshow, filling it with images and sounds she couldn't process. _"A masked figure clad in black armor with a red lightsaber in hand… Looks Sith enough. So the woman with a yellow one must be Jedi. She sure fights like one. Did she call the other one Revan? And why does it smell like blood? Oh Force, my head…"_

Her eyes snapped open. "Disoriented" didn't even begin to cover haw she felt. She tried to move and instantly regretted it – sharp, blinding pain shot through her like a jolt of electricity. From toes through stomach and right into her brain, it exploded into a thousand tiny glass shards, cutting and ripping her apart. She threw up, her whole body convulsing violently, covering her skin with a fine film of cold sweat. Nicola lost track of time as she felt her insides spill on the floor, like she was being torn inside out and smashed against the wall simultaneously. The only thought that crossed her mind was a frantic plea, _"Please, please, can I just pass out?"_ The blissful oblivion never came, though.

After what felt like an eternity, Nicola had nothing left to vomit and spasms started to weaken. She tried to stay perfectly still, squeezed in a fetal position, patiently waiting for the pain to subdue a little. When she finally felt she could move without her brain exploding, she slowly opened her eyes again.

The first thing she became aware of was her very sparse clothing. Not that it mattered, given the circumstances. She looked around, but didn't recognize the small dormitory she found herself in, although she was absolutely certain she was on a starship. _"The starship,"_ she thought with wonder. _"Endar Spire, a __Hammerhead__-class cruiser for the Galactic Republic Navy, manufactured by Rendili StarDrive." _To make matters even more disturbing, despite her well-informed status regarding spacecrafts, Nicola was absolutely clueless about her own identity or the reasons of her being there.

Carefully, she got to her feet and experimentally stretched joints, trying to determine the severity of her condition as well as its source. It appeared that she had suffered electrocution or something similar to that. Her skin was erratically covered with red spots of nasty-looking burns. _"Probably the result of an overloaded power conduit by the far wall,"_ she concluded. _"I would have probably been dead, had I been standing closer to it."_ Nicola also found – or more likely felt – some bruising on her back and hands, not to mention a violently throbbing cut on her head. A pool of blood on the floor was relatively small so the wound probably wasn't life-threatening. What bothered her much more was the concussion and, apparently, a serious case of memory loss.

Trying her best to ignore the nauseating dizziness, she searched the room for clothes or some sort of ID and quickly found both lying by one of the beds. Slipping in a sweater, she quickly scammed through the small datapad. _"Nicola Corlian, a freelance scout, currently on contract as a personal translator for one Bastila Shan. Is it the one that killed the infamous Dark Lord? Wonder, why I was dreaming about them. Questions, questions… It appears I'm fluent in a number of alien languages. Echani battle training? That could certainly come in handy. I must have some sort of weapon…"_ she thought, looking around. _"There!"_ A thin, elegant double-bladed sword was lying on the floor next to a leather backpack. It was in her hand when she heard heavy footsteps, followed by a sound of a blast door sliding open. Nicola didn't think. Her body, broken as it was, worked on its own accord like a well-oiled machine; the poor fellow in the doorway didn't even have enough time to gasp. He was smashed against the wall, Nicola's blade pressed right to his jugular vein.

"Name." She didn't know what she expected, but her voice sounded cold, almost alien. Obviously the guy she just pinned down was equally impressed; if his eyes got any wider, they'd have probably fallen out of the eye sockets.

"Are you nuts?! The Sith…"

Nicola just pushed the blade a little bit harder, not breaking skin yet, just to make sure her message went through loud and clear. "Your name," she repeated evenly.

"Trask…" he choked out, swallowing hard and turning away from her breath that could probably knock a viper kinrathdead. "Trask Ulgo. What's gotten into you? I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire, don't you remember?"

"I'm not entirely convinced," she drawled, ignoring his questions and eyeing him suspiciously. "What's _my_ name?"

"Nicola! Nicola Corlian!" he practically shouted. "Now come on! We have a bunch of Sith on our asses!"

"Sith?" She slowly let him go, lowering her sword.

Trask was staring at her, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, the ship was attacked. How could you…" Trask paused and his brows flew up as he took in the view. "…Great Stars, what happened to you? You look like you were tortured or something!"

His eyes followed in the direction Nicola was pointing. "The conduit? You mean… How did you even survive that?" he exclaimed, gaping at Nicola like she has grown a second head. "You should be lying on the floor in a puddle of…"

"Down!" the woman yelled. Since she didn't really expect this Trask person to duck in time, she just yanked him to the ground using her own knee as leverage, while her blade smoothly slashed the throat of a Sith trooper that appeared in the doorway. He stopped breathing by the time Trask was on his feet again.

"Wow!" he blurted out, appreciating Nicola's handiwork. "You really know how to use that sword of yours!"

"Apparently," she murmured, cleaning the blade with the hem of her shirt. "How many Sith?"

"Huh?"

Nicola couldn't suppress a sigh. Why did she have to get the slow one? "The Sith," she repeated patiently. "How many of them? How many of the ship's crew is still alive? Where are we? And where's that Bastila Shan I'm assigned to?"

Trask shook his head and turned to the door. "Look, I'll tell you on the go, okay? We're above Taris. We have to find Bastila and get to the escape pods ASAP."

"That bad?" she asked, following him through a deserted corridor.

"Worse. We've been intercepted by a small Sith fleet and boarded about five minutes ago. I have no idea how many of them are already here. What I do know, is that Bastila's in charge of this mission, and we have to make sure she makes out of this mess alive," he glanced at the woman to his right. She looked horrible. Her black hair was tangled, blood and something much more unpleasant was smeared all over her face and even more blood was slowly leaking down her neck from the wound on her head. Add pale, almost transparent skin, dark circles around her eyes and a deadly weapon in her hand; all in all, Nicola looked positively spectral. "Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"

"Not you, not me, not the mission," she replied as they followed through the maze of empty rooms and hallways. "In short, no autobiographic memory whatsoever. It's quite unsettling, if you must know," she sighed and added. "If it is permanent or not remains to be seen. On the plus side, I can give you the thirty-digit class code of the ship we're on and provide a detailed description of any room we've just skimmed through. It actually proves that…" She didn't have a chance to finish this sentence. The corridor they just ran into was a raging battlefield.

Five bodies were already lying on the floor in a bloody heap. Nicola didn't waste precious seconds to discriminate what side they used to fight on. She was much more concerned with three soldiers in Republic uniform armed with standard issue blasters who were desperately trying to hold their own against seven Sith troopers. Three against seven was by definition an unfair fight. To make matters worse, the Sith were wearing armor and apparently had some frag grenades up their sleeves. One exploded just as Nicola and Trask entered the room. Power of the blast made them stagger backwards, while a younger Republic was instantly knocked dead. _"Time to even the odds," _Nicola thought with anticipation. The Sith were obviously taken by surprise with their timely appearance, and she used that moment's hesitation to cross the space separating them with three long leaps. The one closest to her was the first to go, his guts spilling on the floor with a sickening wet sound. Using her own momentum, she twisted her blade to the left, severing an arm of another one. Over his shriek of pain Nicola managed to hear Trask shout, "Down!"

She fell to her knees, using the still screaming Sith as a living shield. Blaster shots colored the air above her. Five seconds later it all came down to Trask, herself and two of their opponents. Jumping to her feet, Nicola quickly disposed of yet another Sith, a shot from her ally's blaster took out the last one.

"What were you thinking charging at them like this? You're totally insane!" Trask exclaimed even as a wild grin was threatening to spill across his face.

"You're saying it like it's a bad thing," Nicola replied. She didn't return his smile, but her eyes held a devious spark to them. To her own amazement she found this fight rather stimulating. Waves of adrenalin pumping through her veins made her body feel almost weightless… It was intoxicating. Battle was obviously her natural element. _"I'm a scout who fights like a maniac and slices people into bloody bits without blinking,"_ Nicola thought. _"Shouldn't it bother me? How much violence have I seen, or inflicted, to become so comfortable with it?"_

A faint sound coming from her backpack interrupted her thoughts. Trask actually jumped. "What the heck?" he asked with agitation. Nicola ignored him, fumbling with fastens, and after some rummaging with the contents she surfaced what looked like a personal communicator.

"_This is Commander Carth Onasi on your comm. Do you copy?"_

She didn't recognize the male voice, but then again, that wasn't such a huge surprise. Trask, on the other hand, looked considerably relieved. He snatched the device from Nicola's hand. "Sir, this is Trask Ulgo, we hear you. I'm with one of Bastila's escort, name's Corlian."

"_Yeah, I kinda got that, since it's her comm," _this Onasi guy said with a chuckle, but then went all business again_. "I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems. Bastila's escape pod is away, you're the last surviving crew members. You have to get off the ship, Trask, the Sith could bomb us into space dust any second now. I can't wait for you much longer, just grab the girl, head straight to the escape pods and try not to get blasted on the way." _

"Aye, aye Sir," Trask acknowledged, looking at Nicola.

"Grab the girl?" she asked innocently.

He just rolled his eyes at her. "Please, no one expects an ordinary translator to fight like an elite commando. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes…" he stopped in midsentence, shaking his head. "Oh, never mind that. Let's get moving, I know a shortcut."

This one shortcut they probably shouldn't have taken. When the blast door opened, Nicola and Trask stopped cold in their tracks. A Jedi and her opponent were locked up in fierce duel, their lightsabers, one blue and one red, were smashing against each other, sending flashes and sparkles in the air. Nicola saw the lean female fighter was quick and agile, but she was also worn out, sweat streaming down her tanned face, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. _"She wouldn't last fifteen seconds against this guy."_ Nicola proved to be right soon enough. The Dark Jedi, a tall strong man in black armor, jumped back to get some room. The woman watched, mesmerized, as he swung his sword, painting a wide red curve… That soft humming sound – it made her teeth chatter, and the next second, Jedi's head went flying, her limp body falling to the ground with a soft thump; a fountain of blood covered her opponent's face in a bizarre crimson mask. He didn't seem to terribly mind.

Trask stomped back, pulling Nicola with him, but it was too late; the Sith has already noticed them. He scanned the pair, his lips twitching into a very unpleasant smirk. "What do we have here?" he inquired in a deep menacing voice. "A soldier and…" he paused, his dark eyes going over Nicola like she was something to eat, which was surprising, considering the way she looked. "…Oh, another Jedi, and a strong one at that. Where's you lightsaber, girl?"

"You're mistaken," Nicola replied in calm, even voice as she and Trask were slowly backing away. "I'm no Jedi."

That appeared to startle him. "No?" he inquired. "Well that makes this even more interesting. Potential like yours is a rare thing indeed. My Lord Malak would surely find a place for you in his ranks. Kill the soldier and come with me," the Sith offered and even extended a hand to her.

"Tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline." Apparently, Nicola possessed an impressive array of very different half-smiles, and the one she chose to show at that moment was neither nice nor sweet. This woman covered in blood from head to toe, with those eerie blue eyes of hers… She looked violent, dangerous. Darth Bandon, the Sith Hand, Malak's apprentice took an instinctive step back before he could stop himself. Nicola saw this, his hesitation, a tiny hint of fear that passed like a shadow behind his eyes. She whirled her sword, ready and eager for the challenge, but apparently this fight was just not meant to happen. Not when Trask decided to play hero.

"No! Just run, Nicola! Get to escape pods!" he yelled, jerking her backwards. "For the Republic!" With that sharp cry, he ran towards the Sith, slamming a button on the wall. The door closed behind him with a low thud.

"Shit!" Nicola hissed through clenched teeth. Trask was as good as dead now. _"Didn't want it to end like this for the poor fellow,"_ she thought. Not allowing herself to wallow in regret for longer than a second, she ran down the corridor using the schematics she downloaded from a terminal on the bridge. As she stormed through one of the storage rooms with some inactive droids in it, she headed straight to the door, but then… stopped. It was like a flash of an insight that send shiver down her spine, and then knowledge just settled inside her head. Five armed Sith were waiting on the other side of that door, and there was no way she could take them all down and stay in one piece. Before Nicola had the chance to contemplate on her newly acquired talent of premonition, her comm suddenly flared to life again.

"_Trask, you still there?"_ the familiar male voice asked. _"There's a whole squad of Sith troopers on the other side of that door. You need to find some way to thin their numbers."_

"_Tell me something I don't know,"_ Nicola thought, but out loud she said, "Trask is dead, locked himself with a Dark Jedi to buy me some time."

She heard Carth curse under his breath. _"I see. Nicola Corlian, right? There's a terminal in the room you're in. If you're good with that kind of stuff, you can try to try to slice into it and use the security system against the Sith. It could help if you have some computer spikes. Or you can reprogram one of the assault droids to clear out the way for you. Can you do that?"_

"There's only one way to find out," she muttered.

"_What was that?"_

"Nothing. I'll get to it." She switched off the comm and quickly scanned the contents of her backpack. A few small devices that she recognized as comm spikes were lying neatly on the bottom. Once at the terminal, Nicola tried to relax and access her mechanical memory, let her mind and body fall into familiar patterns, like during the fight. Assuming she had any skill in hacking prior to the accident, her hands could just do the work on their own. After a second of hesitation, she connected a spike to the terminal and her fingers started moving over the keyboard. _"Let them have a taste of their own medicine,"_ she thought with a sinister grin she didn't really bother to hide. Screams coming from the other side of the door told her that the power conduit she just overloaded took care of the Sith all right.

She resisted the temptation to try and repair the assault droid. As much as Nicola wanted to win the "Most Resourceful Person of the Year" contest, survival was the main issue at the moment. Something, some sixth sense was telling her she didn't have more than a minute to escape this death trap. _"Almost there," _she thought, storming through the room with the troopers she just fried lying on the floor. _"Almost there." _She let out a sigh of genuine relief when she saw a door with "Escape Pods" written across it.

Inside was a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a strange mixture of military and civilian outfit. He abruptly turned to her with a blaster in hand. "Are you…? Corlian?"

"Apparently," she said. "I'd really appreciate you turning that blaster some other direction. You're Carth Onasi?"

"Yeah, we've been introduced when you came on board. Don't you remember?" he said, putting the weapon back in a holster and taking a better look at her. "Damn, what happened to you?" His hand reached to touch her head, but stopped mid-way. "Um, never mind. We'll take care of your injuries once we're safe. Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around and get shot by the Sith. Come on."

They both took a step to the escape pods… Pod. "Are we gonna fit?" Nicola asked skeptically, as she holstered her blades into leather sheaths she found attached to her backpack.

"It doesn't seem like we have a choice now, does it?" Carth said with a small smile. "Unless you're planning to use that impressive sword on me, we'll have to squeeze up."

Ten seconds, some shifting and some sorry-s later, they were packed tight in a small white chamber. Carth sealed the door and slammed a launch button with a closed fist. It appeared they had barely escaped a very unpleasant end. As the pod bulleted down, rapidly picking up speed, the Endar Spire was turned into wreckage by several blasts coming from one of the Sith warships. Nicola was grateful for not being a part of this otherwise impressive display. She didn't actually have the chance to witness it though; her face was pretty much pressed against her companion's chest, and all she could see was the smooth leather of Carth's orange vest. _"Orange… This must be the most ridiculous color imaginable,"_ she thought and couldn't suppress a small and slightly hysterical chuckle.

"Something funny?" Carth inquired with a smile Nicola heard, rather than saw. Unfortunately, what she also heard was a beeping sound that could only indicate one thing – they were coming down way too quick. When their pod crushed into the planet's surface, air was swashed out of Nicola's lungs and she passed out before she even had the chance to lament about how phenomenally screwed up this day was.


	4. Interlude 1

**Interlude. The Prodigy.**

So many colors… Deep, vibrant blue, rich purple and radiant gold – they fused, melted into each other, creating smooth gradients of hues that didn't even have names in human language. Like an ocean of saturated light, the sky was collapsed over endless fields of green, bathing them in waves of pure, immaculate beauty.

Even after spending years on Dantooine, Revan was still mesmerized by those sunsets. She was standing barefooted on top of a small hill. Warm wind was playing with her open robes, running its gentle fingers through her hair, making it dance around, tickling skin on her face. For once, Revan's mind was blissfully empty, stripped of all thoughts and doubts, of all things alien and unnecessary. _"There is no emotion, there is peace."_ The debate she had with Master Vrook about this very line happened almost a year ago. The memory was still fresh, but it all seemed so silly right now. Standing there in a reverie, Revan could finally fathom the true meaning of those words, and all the alluring promises behind them. _"How nice it would be to just stay here, how easy to embrace the Code. Live simply…"_ Revan pondered, letting herself get absorbed in this fantasy, just for a little while. A small weakness – isn't she allowed that much? _"There is no passion…"_

"There is serenity." Like so many times before, the harsh intervention of reality took form of Revan's omnipresent mentor. "Before you ask, I didn't read your mind, apprentice," Master Kae said with a smile, coming up the hill and closing with her student. "There was no need; I knew exactly what you felt. After all, I used to be young too, just another Padawan here on Dantooine. With a clear and open mind, I once took this view in for the first time, and was equally fascinated with it." She paused for a moment, watching Revan thoughtfully. "You do realize this is an illusion? That peace you feel. It's momentary."

"Illusion…" the girl slowly repeated, tasting the word. "Yes, Master. A flawless, tempting illusion, and easy to yield to," she added dreamily, still facing the horizon. "I feel whole. Complete."

"A perfect moment." Arren nodded, then sat on the ground and gestured her Padawan to join. "They are not called moments for nothing, you know. Happiness is the most captivating emotion, and the most fleeting one. Tell me, apprentice, what is happiness?"

Revan knew that rhetorical questions seized to exist when it came to Master Kae. The woman was expecting an honest answer, and a clever one. "To know where you stand…" the girl said after some hesitation. "To find your place, your purpose in the world and accept it."

"Nicely put," Arren commented with a half-smile. "Yes, an interesting idea, but of course it's quite wrong."

Her student's face didn't change expression, didn't betray daunt or uncertainty. Kae smiled at Revan with a note of approval. The girl knew this game and learned to play by the rules.

"Can you tell me, what was your mistake?"

Revan thought about it for two good minutes, then finally nodded, as if satisfied with her own conclusion. "Finding you purpose does not equal happiness. In fact, I believe that nothing can guarantee that you will find it, even for a moment." She sighed, then continued with a shrug. "But it is possible to find a key to it."

"A key?" Master Kae asked with a degree of amused interest.

"Yes," Revan confirmed. "Something that opens the door to happiness. Some long sought achievement, a singular purpose that could make you feel happy, should you wish it." She smiled, gazing at the skyline, where the fading sun was still blazing with liquid fire. "It might be possible to find this key in some little thing, or even within oneself. In the end, however, it is still a matter of choice." Revan turned back to her teacher, searching the older woman's face, wondering if she would approve.

"A matter of choice," Arren repeated her student's words. "Yes, Revan, very good. Unfortunately, this draws us to another conclusion, and a rather sad one." She paused, making sure she had her audience's full attention. "Few people can honestly call themselves happy, and even fewer of them have seen the world beyond their own home village. Now why do you think that is?"

"Because… knowledge sows misery?" Revan asked knitting her brow as if doubtful of her own words.

That drew a full, deep laughter from Master Kae. "I'm pretty sure I was the one who asked you a question," she said, still chuckling. "But you are right, if only in part. That "key" theory of yours works both ways, and knowledge can open the door to many unpleasant things that generally constitute misery. Sorrow, anger, fear – we shall speak more about this one later. Disappointment and regret would be, I'm afraid, the most trying of them all…" she paused. "…Especially for one like you."

"Me?" Revan inquired. "What about me?"

Master Kae leaned forward, studying her student's expression. "You have a certain quality that most would call curiosity. Personally, I prefer the term involvement. The world fascinates you, Revan. Around every corner you expect to find something new and unheard-of, something exciting, maybe weird or dangerous. You wish to analyze it, to study it. You desire to experience the universe in all its diversity and splendor."Suddenly, like a flip of a switch, Arren's eyes changed. Her expression, so peaceful just a second ago, turned fierce; her voice grew challenging. "Even if it kills you, even if it tears your soul inside out. Are you prepared for this, girl?" Kae rose to her feet, towering over Revan. "Do you think you can handle a lifetime of struggle?"

"Master…" Revan stammered frantically, standing in front of the older woman at arm's length. "…I understand what you mean, I know that knowledge comes at a price..."

"No you don't, not yet." Revan opened her mouth to say something, probably object, but Arren Kae refused to be interrupted. "Be quiet and listen! You think you know all about it, you fancy yourself smarter, more flexible than your peers, even some of your previous Masters." She looked at the girl with a good measure of irony. "Well, let me tell you this, my dear – the reason it seems so easy for you to be open-minded about the world, is only because you in fact have seen so little of it."

It all happened very quickly. In a blink of an eye a green, ignited lightsaber was in Master Kae's hand. _"She's not kidding,"_ Revan thought, gripping at her own weapon and taking a high Ataru defense stance. _"She's obviously daring me. An Aggression Form seems appropriate."_

Meanwhile, the older woman took a quick step back, positioning herself in another stance, one that Revan has never seen before. It seemed bold and simple at first, like that of a fifth Form, but there was something else, something ferocious, almost wild radiating from Master Kae. Revan didn't have time to analyze it, too occupied parrying her opponent's first attack. Power of the blow nearly knocked her down. How could this delicate woman display such strength was beyond Revan, although she was sure it wasn't entirely physical. The Force was working through her Master, giving her edge.

It was a fierce battle; both women fought with unshakeable determination. Revan thought that her young, agile body will at least let her hold ground long enough to wear her aging Master down a little bit, yet in less than a minute she was panting, while Arren overwhelmed her with swift and seemingly unconnected sequences of powerful blows without even breaking a sweat.

Revan considered herself quite skilled in Ataru Form, her movements were swift and graceful like they were supposed to be. Force was flowing through her body as well, empowering it, making it move faster than humanly possible. Like a blur of motion, she executed one flurry of blows after another, trying her best to stay in offensive. By all means she did quite well and had nothing to be ashamed of.

"_And yet here I am,"_ she thought lying on her back with the green blade at her throat. Revan looked up to meet the older woman's eyes and swallowed hard. "I…" she stumbled. "I'm not familiar with the Form you used, Master."

"You are not familiar with a lot of things, apprentice," Kae answered coldly and put her weapon away. "Now sit, this lesson is not finished."

Revan did like she was told. Arren sat next to her and spoke in her usual slow, contemplative manner, like the fight didn't happen at all. "This Form is called Juyo, also known as the Way of the Vornskr or the Ferocity Form. Few Jedi know it, and most do not approve of it, for it is considered the most demanding of all Forms, and the most dangerous one." She glanced at her apprentice. Revan seemed abashed – after all, she was defeated, but Kae learned to read the girl. She knew that underneath this humble exterior she was calm and focused, absorbing every word.

"They say, to practice this style is to walk a razor's edge," Arren continued. "Juyo is more than just a fighting style; it is also a state of mind. You must allow yourself to get lost in the thrill of battle, to channel your zest and hunger and let them empower your attacks. A true zealot of Juyo, however, can also embrace the fury of their opponents and reflect it back at them. Rings any bells?"

After a few seconds of silence, Revan replied, "A Form based on aggressive emotions… Sounds quite Dark Side-ish."

"I believe you can put it that way," Kae said, clearly amused with her pupil's choice of phrasing. "You've heard enough of Master Vrook's lectured. The idea, best described as "emotions-equals-bad", is the centerpiece of his teachings. He can be a real pain in the side, don't you think?"

Revan's eyebrows flew up. _"To openly criticize one Master in front of another? Even Kae can't be that liberal."_

Arren smiled at the girl's confused expression. "Don't answer that, I know what his students think of him, including you. Tell me, have you ever wondered why did he become like this? What made him into the person that he is now?" Master Kae asked, and then added. "The truth, Revan."

"I… No, can't say I really thought about it," her apprentice finally confessed.

"Well I have. I've known Vrook Lamar for a very long time, I remember what he used to be like before the Sith Wars. Actually for those who don't know him all that well, it might seem that he hasn't changed much." Master Kae smiled quietly. "Vrook had always had quite a stern demeanor, preaching and scolding students, expecting nothing but perfection. The only difference is that now he means every word." She looked at Revan seriously. "It's not arrogance, or pride, or self-righteousness that moves him now, not anymore. It's fear."

"Fear?"

"It's ironic in a way, isn't it? For someone who loves to speak about the dangers of emotions, his whole life is driven by one. Do you know how many Jedi had perished in the war with Exar Kun? And how many of those were once studying under Master Vrook?" Arren asked in a hard voice. "He might have been quite harsh with them sometimes, but it doesn't mean he didn't love them all, in his own, dry way."

"_Exar Kun's fall, it broke something in him,"_ Revan contemplated. _"And all those Knights who followed him to fight, to kill their own comrades…"_

"So many dead Jedi, and even more were lost, swallowed by Sith teachings," Master Kae continued, her words like an echo of her pupil's thoughts. "As strange as it may sound, Vrook was a romantic at heart. Deep inside he always believed that eventually light shall stand victorious, against all odds. To be proven wrong, to see so many of his ideals broken in such a brutal way was a tiniest bit more than the old Master could handle." Arren sighed deeply, stretching her arms and legs as she spoke. "Those memories still haunt him, never loosening their grip. A small seed of uncertainty was dropped into his mind, and for many years it stayed there growing stronger, nurtured by his doubts. Now it is both the air he breathes, and the water he drowns in." Master Kae concluded. "Know this, Revan. The origins of his fear do not lie within the war itself. The thing that terrifies him so is really quite stale. Tell me, apprentice, what do we fear the most?"

"We fear…" The girl paused. "We fear the unknown."

"Precisely. It is the reason why people gather around the campfire at night, why children ask their parents to keep the door open. We're all scared of mysteries that linger in the dark, and so we seek refuge in simple, familiar things that we associate with light. For you it's the Jedi Code. For ordinary people it's friendship and family, their work, their hobbies."

"All the things that make them happy," Revan suggested.

Kae nodded. "We are back at the beginning. In order to explore the universe we have to tap into its secrets. We open our souls to a vast amount of knowledge, and inevitably discover many things cruel and dangerous. They shatter that carefully built reality that we created in our minds, so we hide behind a shield of denial and ignorance. For this is what happiness is – perfect ignorance." Master Kae took her student by the hand and they both rose to their feet. "There is no development in peace, Revan. When we are not challenged we move in tiny steps; years may pass before we actually learn anything. Such slow, passive, hesitant path means stagnation and death for someone like you and I. Only in struggle we evolve."

"What are you saying, Master?" Revan asked, hanging her head, like she was counting strands of grass under her feet. "We are doomed to misery?"

"A matter of choice, my dear." Arren put her finger under Revan's chin, urging the girl look her in the eyes. "We are not doomed to anything. I just want you to remember about the consequences of you decisions. What I told you about Master Vrook – that kind of fate is very real. Truth opens your eyes, but it can also destroy you. To taste of both light and darkness means to carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders. In the end, only life can show who will break and who will bend." Kae took a step forward, and put her hands on the girl's shoulders. "This is why I chose you. You have a mind of a mystic, but a heart of a warrior. I think you have a chance, my girl."

"_It takes one to know,"_ Revan thought, finally meeting her Master's gaze. "You want me to continue where you left off."

"It's true. I have walked this path long before you, and… failed. I chose happiness instead," Kae admitted sadly. "It was as wonderful as I expected, and as short-lived as I feared. Now I remain here and show others the way, until the time comes for me to go into the world again." Master Kae, the wise and distant Master Kae, touched the girl's cheek with her cold fingers. It was so unexpected, that Revan closed her eyes for a moment, memorizing the feeling. "This path can be yours now, should you wish it," Arren finished and put her arms down, turning away, her voice tired and detached again. "It's late. You should get back to the Enclave; Alek must be looking for you."

As Revan descended down the hill, reflecting on all the things she's been told, Master Kae's voice sounded once more. "When you're on Coruscant, find Master Kavar. He's a true proficient of Juyo, and he'll teach you if you ask him right."

Young apprentice couldn't help but smile. "When am I going to Coruscant?"

"_When you make a choice," _an echo sounded, and Revan was sure it was not in her ears. _"Make sure you don't regret it."_


	5. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. Issues.**

Carth had a lot to consider in the past two days and most of his thoughts circled around two women. First, there was Bastila Shan, the young Padawan, who incidentally happened to be the key to the whole Republic war effort. Finding her promised to be way more difficult than Carth had anticipated. Vague rumors about a Republic escape pod that crashed in the Undercity of Taris was the only lead to her whereabouts, and even if they proved to be true, getting to the site itself could become quite a predicament. The whole planet was under Sith quarantine – no ships could land or take off, and one couldn't spit without hitting one of the patrols that were crawling all over the streets. Carth was thanking whatever deities he knew that he wasn't wearing his full uniform. A fellow in a jacket that screamed "Republic" in a place like this would get busted faster than he could say "Sithspawn". At least for now Carth was safe – the abandoned apartment he stumbled upon earlier would serve as a good hideout.

Right now, however, his main problem was right there, lying on one of the beds. Nicola Corlian was her name. The woman was slipping in and out of consciousness ever since Carth dragged her, limp and bleeding, out of their escape pod. He was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to wake up, or how much of "her" was still left there. The wounds she suffered on the Endar Spire were serious enough, and the "smooth" landing they had did nothing to improve her condition. At least her head wasn't bleeding anymore – a soldier of the Republic, Carth had received some medical training. Burns and other injuries were also healing thanks to the one-use kolto syringe he found in Nicola's bag. Still, he feared, the principal damage has already been done.

He turned his head to the muffled sounds coming from the bed – the woman was mumbling something unintelligent, restlessly thrashing about in her sleep. Carth couldn't suppress a sigh. He didn't really pay much attention during their escape from the doomed ship – survival seemed to be the most pressing matter at that point, but he did notice her confusion. She clearly didn't recognized him, although they had been introduced. They'd even met a couple of times at the cafeteria and exchanged a few casual phrases. There could be two explanations for that kind of behavior – shock or serious neural damage. Judging from the burns Carth could wager on the latter. Apparently Nicola got a serious shot from an exploded plasma conduit.

In any case, he had to wait for her to wake up before doing any exploring. No way he would leave a helpless woman alone, unguarded. The only time he went out was to get some food and basic medical supplies. He also examined the contents of Nicola's backpack, out of both necessity and curiosity. What he found didn't give him a lot, if any, information on that woman – about five hundred credits, some medpacks and computer spikes, a change of clothes, a comm and an ID datapad. No holovids, no pictures of family and friends, no brush or any other stuff women usually carry around – nothing that could give Carth any detail about her personality. Her ID stated she was from Deralia, a world he's never heard of before, part-time scout, part-time translator on contract. She had some training in Echani battle techniques too, and the double-bladed sword she had was definitely of Echani design, but where or when did she get that training was unclear. Also, she had no specific accent – that much Carth remembered from their brief conversations back on the Endar Spire. Even her name was quite common.

Nicola Corlian was a woman with no past and no strong ties to any person or place. Overall, her only notable feature was the total lack of anything notable about her. Well, maybe except for the fact that she was quite easy on the eyes.

Pondering about the identity of his new companion while sitting by the workbench, mindlessly reassembling his blaster, it took Carth some time to feel that someone was watching him. He turned his head to meet a pair of curious blue eyes.

"Hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?" he asked with genuine concern.

"Well, I'm not dead, which is good in my book," Nicola replied softly. "You're Carth Onasi." She made it a statement.

"Yes. Do you remember the Endar Spire?"

"The attack. Part of it anyway." She slowly, carefully sat up, stretching her legs and massaging her neck. "Nothing prior to my little accident."

"Accident?"

"When I woke up, I was in my quarters on the floor, burns and all, near an overloaded conduit. Do the math."

"I suspected as much," he said, frowning. "And you've lost your memory, huh? That makes sense, actually. People unfortunate enough to be near an overloaded conduit usually die of shock, but those who survive the initial pain usually end up as vegetables. Technically, plasma fries up your whole nervous system," Carth explained. "It's a miracle that you can even think straight."

"Trask said the same thing." She stood up and went to a mirror that was hanging on the wall and examined her own reflection. "How come I'm not covered in blood and guts?"

Nicola could swear she actually saw the man blush. "Um, I needed to take care of your injuries, make sure you don't get any infection…" he stumbled, looking away. "So I took you clothes off, save for the underwear, and pretty much held you upright in a sonic shower. Then I cleaned your clothes and got you dressed again. Don't worry, I didn't…" He was interrupted by her soft chuckle.

"Relax, soldier," she said with a small smile. "I'm grateful. It's nice to wake up with no taste of vomit in my mouth or blood on my skin. Plus, you saved my life at least once. It's not like I'm a position to complain."

Carth couldn't suppress a smile of his own. "I suppose that was your version of a "thank you". Anyway, there's not need," he said more seriously. "I've never abandoned anyone on a mission before and I'm not about to start now."

"Good to know. I see you've looked over my things." She gestured towards the open backpack and added, before he could say anything. "I don't mind. I recon the medpacks you found there is the reason I'm so well-healed." Nicola turned back to Carth, scrutinizing the expression on his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you know about me?"

Giving in his usual suspicion of strangers, he decided to tread carefully. "Not much, why?"

Nicola shook her head slightly. "What I mean is how well did you know me? Have we met before the Endar Spire?"

"On it, and our conversations never went beyond the usual hey-what's-up routine." Carth stood up and came closer to her. "You seemed like a loner though, distant, pretty much like you are now, actually." He tried to turn it into a joke, and failed miserably. He could see something sweep across Nicola's face. She clearly tried to hide what she felt, but it was there. _"How does one live without past?"_ Carth wondered, struggling to understand what this woman was going through. _"How can you find your place in the world if all your connections were suddenly severed?"_

Without thinking, Carth reached and his warm fingers brushed the palm of Nicola's hand. Gently, like a touch of a butterfly's wings. "Hey, you're okay sister?"

The woman shuddered and snapped out of her thoughts, taking her hand away. "Sorry," Carth added, embarrassed by his own display of concern. "I didn't mean to…"

"No…" Nicola interjected. "It's fine. I'm just not used to being open. Or so it would seem." Her blank mask, as Carth called it in his head, was back in place. "Anyway, it's not like I've lost all of my memory, just personal things," Nicola commented as she went to pick up her bag. "Like I have no idea why I was assigned to Bastila, but I know the rumors of the part she's played in Revan's death."

"Really?" Carth was eager to change the subject. "Well, that will certainly make your life, and our mission, leaps and bounds easier, because Bastila is somewhere out here, on Taris, and it's our job to find her, preferably alive, and make sure she stays that way."

Nicola shrugged. "Well, technically, it's not _my_ job. If what my datapad says is true, I'm a civilian on contract, so I don't really have to…"

"What are you saying?" Carth looked at her with a mix of humor and indignation. "You're gonna just stroll out of here? Well, let me tell you something, sister, you are about to get really disappointed. The whole damned planet is under Sith quarantine!" he exclaimed making a wide and overdramatic, in Nicola's opinion, arc with his hand, that was supposedly symbolizing the great city of Taris and beyond. "So if you think you can just get a ticket to an off-world freighter and wave me goodbye…" Carth abruptly broke his monologue when he finally looked at Nicola. She was smiling, and it was the closest to a real, wide smile she's ever showed. _"Is this some kind of an entertainment for her?" _he thought with annoyance. "What is so damn funny?"

"Men are so predictable. Then again, maybe it's just you," Nicola said, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Again I say, relax, soldier, I'm not going anywhere. Quarantine or not, I'm not about to leave you here alone and helpless, especially now that I know of your gentle nature. In this cruel and selfish world, that kind of attitude is just plain dangerous." She came closer to him and jokingly patted him on the shoulder. "Besides, you saved my life. My loyal and honorable heart will never know peace until I return the favor."

Carth just stared at her, not sure if he wanted to laugh or snap. "You're just making fun of me, aren't you?"

"I have amnesia. Cut me some slack. Now, if you don't mind, I'm hungry, so let's go find a cantina," Nicola said, picking up her sword and heading for the exit. "You can fill me in on the whole quarantine issue on the way. Speaking of, have you learned anything about Bastila while I was out?"

As they silently sat at a corner table munching on their sandwiches and drinking caffa, Nicola reflected on the past hour, glancing at her hew partner. He shared all the information he gathered about Bastila, which was close to nothing. The young Jedi could be anywhere, assuming she had survived her own landing in the Undercity two days ago. Maybe she was gravely injured, or she found her way to the Upper or the Lower City, or was captured by the Sith… Possibilities were endless. Nicola would have suggested to drop this fruitless case and start searching for some way to get off this planet, but Carth was adamant – finding Bastila was their primary objective.

Unfortunately, the city of Taris had many layers and since the Sith established their presence here, it had acquired a couple of new ones. _"Upper City, Lower City, Undercity – the lower you go, the uglier it becomes,"_ Nicola thought with frustration. Even getting to the less guarded Lower City was easier said than done – only Sith soldiers or people with proper authorization papers had access to the elevators leading there. How could they make any plans, when even a simple trip through the Upper City turned out to be an adventure on its own?

As soon as Carth and Nicola left their hideout, they stumbled upon a Sith patrol. It appeared like three troopers had some kind of disagreement with a couple of Duros, one that threatened to end in bloodshed, which it did. One of the aliens instantly received a blaster shot – apparently, Nicola and Carth both unintentionally served as catalyst and had no choice than to fight their way through. Fortunately, those Sith were not the most capable of their kind, and Carth proved to be quite skilled with blasters. The lone Duro, scared but happy to survive the encounter, assured them – as Nicola translated to her companion – that he would take care of the bodies.

Then there was an old Ithorian bullied by some rich kids. Upon seeing them the woman with no past discovered a new exciting quality in her possession – she really, really disapproved of xenophobia. One ice-cold look was enough to send the children running.

A scared woman with an undeserved bounty on her head, a crazy preacher, two flunkies of a badass, self-proclaimed crime lord shaking credits out of some poor fellow, who was stupid or desperate enough to take a loan from him. Those two were just asking for trouble. It was nice to see this man's joyful face when Nicola gave him the money he needed, but she knew it wouldn't bring him a lot of happiness. Someday he might need to take a new loan, and everything will repeat all over again, except that he'll probably end up dead. _"Ah, the city of Taris, flawless pearl of the Outer Rim,"_ Nicola pondered sarcastically. _"Shiny on the outside, but dig a little deeper – and all you get is the same old freak-show of pain, suffering and other "lovely" things. The whole point of the Republic is to give people more freedom because it's supposed to make them happier. And yet most of them still use it to bring more misery to everyone around, including themselves. " _The woman chuckled at the sheer irony of it.

"Credit for your thoughts."

"Huh?" Carth's voice reminded her that she's been holding her sandwich mid-way to her mouth for a good minute. "Oh, just thinking about how irrational people can be."

"Meaning?" asked the man, taking a sip of caffa.

"Most of the things people want, or think, or do go against all logic and common sense," Nicola explained between bites. "Take xenophobia. The word itself suggests that it's not hate of aliens; it's actually fear, and a purely irrational one. Some species have different physiology than the others, but basically most of us share the same number of basic instincts, the same needs and desires, like shelter and comfort, and we are all sentient. The only thing that separated us is our looks and the culture we were brought up in."

Carth whistled, smiling at the woman in front of him. "It's good to know that amnesia did nothing to your wits. So, are you saying that everything I feel, or love, or hate – it's all just conditioning?"

"Most things," Nicola repeated, sitting back and intertwining her fingers behind her head. "I said most things. And yes, that's probably true. Like, do you hate the Sith?"

That appeared to catch him off guard; he certainly didn't smile anymore. Slowly Carth put his cup on the table, looking at Nicola with both surprise and a hint of suspicion. "Why do you ask?"

"I'll take it as a yes," she replied casually. "I've seen the way you try to burn a whole through every trooper we encountered on the streets. If looks could kill…" She said with a sigh. "As for your question, I was just trying to make an example. Are you gonna play along or what?"

"Fine," Carth finally admitted. "I hate the Sith. Can you blame me?"

"This isn't about blame and this sure isn't about me. So why do you hate them?" she asked, resting her hands back on the table.

"_Okay, let's play,"_ Carth thought almost angrily, but out loud he inquired in a calm voice, "Do you prefer a short or a long version?"

"Let's start with a short one and go from there."

"They're killers."

"Aren't you? How many have you killed to get to the escape pods on the Endar Spire? And earlier, when you served during the Wars?"

Carth's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I did?"

"I'll answer your question if you answer mine." Nicola's face didn't betray any emotion.

"All right. I kill to protect my own life and lives of those close to me," Carth explained vehemently. "Sith devastate worlds; bring death and sufferings to millions of innocent people. How can you even make a comparison? Do you have any idea how much cruelty those animals can unleash? Or did those memories disappear too?"

"No, the war I remember quite well," Nicola said with an ironic expression. "So, back to devastated worlds and slaughtered innocents. Do you hate the Mandalorians too? After all, they've proven to be equally capable of such things."

Carth was so frustrated and confused with this conversation he wanted to shake this woman. "Damn, you're persistent."

"Don't answer if you don't want to."

Carth sighed. "No way, I wanna see where this is going. Plus when we're done, I'm gonna ask you some questions myself."

Nicola shrugged. "Deal."

"Yes, I hate the Mandalorians."

"But you hate the Sith more."

That sounded like a statement and made Carth pause for a few seconds. "I… Yes."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It's a simple question, Carth, but before you answer, let's get our facts straight, shall we? As I recall, at least four worlds, Malachor excluded, were almost completely annihilated during the Mandalorian Wars." Nicola started counting on her fingers. "Cathar, Serroco, Eres and Duro. Millions of lives, two species practically wiped out from the face of the galaxy." She looked at Carth, her eyes scrutinizing his expression very intently. "But ask someone about the Jedi Civil War – how many significant battles were there? One. It's Telos. So technically…"

"Technically?!" Carth finally snapped. When he realized he almost shouted this word, he caught himself, glanced around to see if anyone was watching them and then continued in an agitated whisper, leaning closer to Nicola. "Technically, you have no damn idea what you're talking about! Telos means nothing for you, just a number. One planet destroyed, who cares, right?" he practically spat. "Well, guess what, sister, Telos was my home, I had a family there! Can you imagine what it felt like – to see former heroes of the Republic turn on us? How can you trust anyone after this? How can you _not_ hate? He destroyed my life, Nicola. That's why I hate the Sith. Is that rational enough for you?"

"He? I assume you mean Revan and yes, it explains why you hate him," she said with her usual black expression. "The Sith, those we see here in the city, had nothing to do with it. They're soldiers with their own commanders and their own orders, like you."

Carth was about to say something he might regret, but another voice interrupted him. It belonged to a blond man in his late-twenties, attractive in his own way. Ironically enough, he was wearing a standard-issue Sith uniform. The number of metal pins on his shoulders indicated that he was a lieutenant.

"Is this fellow bothering you, lady?" he drawled in what he probably thought was his "sexy" voice.

"Not at all, just a small family argument." Nicola smiled to him casually, ignoring the wave of emotions he was sending her way, lust being the dominant.

"Ah, family, sorry. Didn't see a ring," he said, clearly disappointed.

"You misunderstood, but my manners escape me. I'm Devon, this is my _cousin,_" she gestured to Carth, lying smoothly. "Kell. And you are?"

"Jordo. Pleased to meet you both. Shall we have a drink together? I'm buying," he offered not even sparing a look at Carth, who wasn't really bothering to hide his anxiety.

Nicola, on the other hand, was all smiles. "Sure, why not?"

"Back in a sec." The Sith officer grinned at her, eyes taking her in from head to toe, and went in the direction of a counter.

"What was that about?" asked the not-so-happy Carth, looking at his companion.

"As much as I love philosophical debates, Carth, we still need to find Bastila," Nicola replied, ignoring the man's tone. "Might as well start with this."

"And what do you expect to accomplish here?"

"Don't know yet. Maybe he will babble something about those escape pods, or give us some other clue." Out in the corner of her eyes, Nicola saw the Sith in question coming back. "Please, do try and be civil, _Kell._ Unless you have some other brilliant scheme in mind, I think we should take our chances here."

"Now what do you say?" They were back at the apartment and Nicola was quite pleased with herself, looking at her companion from behind the workbench, where she was installing a new shiny grip on her Echani blade.

"Fine, fine!" Carth exclaimed, throwing hands into the air in an exaggerated display of surrender. "You were right, Oh Wise One, maybe it was a good idea after all."

"Maybe?" Nicola asked with a playful indignation. "A Sith party where everyone's gonna be piss drunk by midnight, not to mention that some of the guests will arrive still wearing their uniforms." She glanced at Carth with a small, but wicked grin. "Uniforms they will surely take off; uniforms we can take and sneak out right under their noses. I think it's bloody brilliant."

"Speaking of bloody," Carth interjected. "You still have question to answer, or did you think I would forget? How did you know I served in the Mandalorian Wars?"

"I didn't until now," she replied casually, but as it became clear that Carth would not let her off the hook that easily, she put her now upgraded sword down and explained reluctantly. "Simple deduction. First, you look about thirty five, and very few people join military at this age. Second, you fight and react on things as expected from an experienced soldier. Third, you say words like "fleet", "commanders" and "duty" with a certain air of pride, like those things are very important and familiar to you. I just had to put two and two together," she concluded.

"I see," Carth replied, gazing at Nicola with interest. "Do you mind if I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"How did you survive on the Endar Spire?"

That made Nicola frown. "Sorry, I'm not sure I get your meaning."

"I thought I was pretty clear. How did you manage to do it?" Carth repeated, looking at her expectantly from the bed he was lounging on.

"Okay…" Nicola drawled with en edge of humor. "I ran with my legs, I fought with my sword and I thought with my head. Do you require any specific details?"

As "exhaustive" as her explanation was, Carth found himself unsatisfied. "Is that it?"

She chuckled. "What else did you expect me to say? I was wounded and confused, I acted on pure instinct, and don't forget that one of your men had to sacrifice himself to give me enough time to escape. So yeah, it wasn't easy, but somehow I managed. I'm afraid there's nothing else I can add."

"Perhaps. Still it's more than a little surprising that someone who was the last minute addition to the crew, someone Bastila's party specifically requested to transfer aboard just happens to survive…" Carth let the assumption hang in the air between them.

"Happens? You saw my injuries. Do you really think it was a pleasant ride?"

"Put yourself in my position, Nicola. Even you have to admit your whole story sounds a bit odd."

"Please, stop with the insinuations, Carth. Make your point." Nicola's voice sounded dangerously calm. "Are you implying that I had something to do with the attack on the Endar Spire?"

"And what if I am?" Carth asked warily, scanning the woman's face.

As he expected, her expression was restrained as ever, but after a few seconds of silence she finally spoke, "Okay, you got me. I'm a Sith spy. I arranged my transfer to the Endar Spire in order to capture Bastila and patiently waited for the Sith fleet to attack, but my vicious plan was spoiled when I received a plasma shock," she said nodding, with a perfectly serious face. "Then I killed Trask, just cause I'm so evil and all, found you, and now here we are. Of course, as soon as we get the Jedi I'm gonna double-cross you and dumb your corpse in some shithole of the Undercity." Nicola paused, eyeing Carth inquisitively, not a hint of humor on her face. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Carth swallowed, staring at her in something bordering shock. "Not particularly, no." It was the truth. As paranoid as he might be, his only intention was to play with her a little bit, to catch her off guard, to make her… _"To make her feel what I felt…"_ Carth thought with a small sense of shame. _"…When she made me spill my secrets to her."_ Yes, he was angry, and yes, for a fraction of a second he wished she had felt his pain.

Carth opened his mouth to explain. She didn't let him.

"No? Well, let me tell you something else, flyboy." Nicola rose from her seat, her eyes turning cold and unwelcome. "If I had anything to do with the Sith, I would have never attempted to carry any philosophical debates with you," Nicola said in a quiet, deliberate voice that almost made Carth shiver. "I look at you and I just know that somewhere deep inside you're damaged. I would have explored that weakness; I would have played sweet and innocent. If I was a traitor, you would have never seen it coming."

Carth was speechless. He lied there on the bed with disbelief written all over his face. _"A traitor. She knows exactly what to say,"_ he thought as he felt that knife in his heart stir with newfound intensity. Suddenly this woman transformed into a cold, dangerous and watchful creature that found a way to twist it once more. _"How does she know? How does she wake all those ugly things I have hidden so deep?"_ He wanted to voice those questions, but instead just asked breathily, "Why are you doing this?"

"Who knows?" she asked in return. "Maybe I was pissed off to hear you speak my name like it's some kind of an alias from my master-spy legend. Or maybe I wanted to pay you back for lashing out at me earlier, on the whole Sith issue. After all, it was you who wanted to know what I was thinking, remember?"

"Bullshit!" Carth exclaimed fervently, trying to hold on to anger. At least it was something familiar. "You used that to pull answers out of me."

Nicola didn't even bother to defend herself from his accusations. "True," she replied with a casual shrug. "True, I did. I wanted to know who I was dealing with. You of all people should understand."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"_T__o see former heroes of the Republic turn on us… How can you trust anyone after this?"_ she repeated his own words. _"He__ destroyed my life._ You clearly took it personally, Onasi, like Revan betrayed _you._"

"_No, not Revan… Oh Mighty Force, I can't do this anymore. How long will the dead keep haunting me? How long will the living? "_ Suddenly anger slipped away, and Carth felt completely exhausted. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Did you really think this would make me trust you more?" he asked, and it held emptiness that he used to hear in Nicola's voice sometimes.

"I don't care whether you trust me or not. I just need to know if I can trust you."

She went to the party alone. Carth knew it was terribly irresponsible of him to let her, but the bigger part of him was relieved; he didn't want to see her, or anyone, at that moment. He couldn't sleep, so he just lied there on the bed, replaying their last conversation over and over. Carth had troubles remembering the last time he was so moved by someone's words. He's known Nicola for only a couple of days, and already she has become a constant presence in his mind. It was frightening, how easily she read him, how effortlessly she pulled his strings, but at the same time Carth found himself intrigued. The woman was just so… intense.

When she finally returned, it was almost morning. "You're back," he said and silently cursed himself. _"Smart, Onasi." _Nicola didn't even bother to reply. She leaned against the wall and took of her shoes, rubbing her aching feet. After a few seconds of silence, Carth asked, "So, no uniforms?"

Without saying anything, she came up to him and dropped something on his chest. It turned out to be the authorization papers that would allow them unrestricted access to all parts of the city.

"How did you…"

"One of the officers had them. So instead of carrying two sets of uniforms all by myself, I got him into a little drinking contest," Nicola said with her eyes half-closed, pressing fingers to her temples. "I'm pretty sure he's gonna have troubles remembering my face tomorrow."

"I take it that you won." Carth attempted to smile, but she just went to the refresher and closed the door behind her. When she reemerged about ten minutes later, she was barefooted, wearing a tank-top and some kind of shorts, with a wet green towel wrapped around her head. It sort of matched the sick color of her face.

"Feeling any better?" Carth asked.

Nicola managed a week smile. "A little, although I'm definitely in queue for one epic hangover."

"So what took you so long? I thought you'd be back by midnight."

"I stopped by the local hospital first. The doctor there, name's Zelka, was really nice, you would have liked him," she said quietly, lying on her bed. "He was generous enough to give me a full brain scan free of charge."

"Any good news?"

"Some. He says there's still a slim chance my memories will come back on their own. Something may trigger them and they'll just pop up… Or not. Brain seems to be very unpredictable that way. Also, he thinks some medications might help, but they're pretty expensive."

"How expensive?"

"A couple of thousands credits expensive."

Carth whistled. "Any idea where to get that kind of money?"

"Well, since I'm good at reading people…" Nicola opened her eyes for a second, glancing at Carth. "…I thought about playing some rounds of pazaak at the cantina tomorrow. Plus, there's also a dueling ring there..."

"You would fight for money?"

"If there's any chance to buy my memories back, I will certainly consider it."

"Desperate times…" Carth said with a hint of irony. "Well, sister, looks like we're both damaged."

Those words made Nicola raise her head and meet Carth's gaze. "I guess we are," she admitted, and corners of her mouth twitched into a small, sad smile. She sighed, and then added, much to Carth's surprise, "All the things I've said… I meant them, I wanted to hurt you, Carth, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my issues out on you like this. You did nothing to deserve that and I won't…" she paused, searching for the right words. "…I won't try to manipulate you again. If you want to share something about your past though, I'll listen."

He looked at her, struck by her sincerity. "Me too," he almost whispered. "I mean, I'm sorry too."

"Accepted." Was it him, or did her smile actually become a little warmer?

"Partners then?"

"Sure. Good night, Carth," Nicola said and turned off the light, getting under the covers. The room was completely dark and very quiet, save for the sound of their breathing.

"Nicola?"

"Hmm?"

"Some things are better left forgotten."


End file.
